


Can't Win

by LemonWicky



Series: In Darkest Thoughts [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Self Harm, negativity, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonWicky/pseuds/LemonWicky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake can never win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Win

He read the messages. He looked at the words over and over again.

He felt something other than the numbing pain fill his heart.

Anger. Envy. Disappointment.

 _Oh my god, you poor thing!_  
_Good thing that loser is out of your life._  
_Typical abuser tactics. You're so strong!_  
_I will make them eat shit!_  
_Lying about their life to get pity points? Pathetic._

Why. Why couldn't anything in his life go right? Why couldn't he just be allowed to be himself?

Blake forced himself to read the rest of the blog post in front of him. Dominic talking about Blake's time in his home, about how much trouble caused him and his family. About how much he sacrificed to help him, only for Blake to spit it all in his face.

He was so close. He was so close to responding. To tell him everything that Blake was feeling, to yell and scream again.

But he didn't. Blake didn't.

Dominic was extremely well liked.

Friendly.  
A talented artist.  
Made two popular computer games.

Blake felt his heart sink as he realized that there was no way he could win. No way anyone would listen to him. No way that anyone would ever really care.

It didn't matter that he felt unwanted and unwelcomed in Dominic's house from nearly the very moment he stepped foot in it.  
It didn't matter that he was so nervous and anxious the entire time he was there.  
It didn't matter that he was still in a rut.  
It didn't matter that he was still cutting himself because of them.  
It didn't matter that Dominic and Mary promised to help him and they didn't.

Because he couldn't draw, couldn't make videogames, couldn't keep his shit together long enough to act like a sane person and drive everyone away. His feelings and happiness and the broken promises that were still cutting him didn't matter in the face of popularity.

He was shaking as he got up from his seat, tiptoeing past the living room in hopes that he could make it outside without -

"Where do you think you're going?" Blake's uncle called out, craning his neck around to look at the young man.

Apparently he couldn't.

"Going outside to get some fresh air." Blake said, turning around and walking into the living room. His uncle was sitting on the couch watching television while his aunt was on her laptop

"Absolutely not." His aunt said, not looking up from the screen. "You're not going to run away again because of a hissy fit."

"But I'm just going to stand out on the porch!" Blake protested, although he knew, yet again, that he wouldn't win. He hadn't been allowed outside by himself since he came back.

"You aren't going outside! Stop backtalking and go do the dishes, since you're so antsy to do something!" His uncle scolded him and Blake want to bite back that there was only two plates, a couple of spoons, and a pot that they had dirtied when they made dinner.

While he was in the shower, trying to stop the cuts on his thighs and upper legs from bleeding. He spent an hour trying to make it stop and when he was finally successful, he finished in the bathroom and stepped out to the smell of potato soup. When he wandered in the kitchen, he was greeted with an empty pot and his aunt and uncle with full stomachs.

"Shouldn't have spent so much time preening yourself." His aunt had said when he protested then. "But there's some noodles in there, unless you suddenly hate noodles, picky."

That had been an hour ago and he knew he wouldn't touch the noodles, but he trudged into the kitchen to clean up their mess.

He had to take another long shower that night.


End file.
